


Wasted Days

by Sonny



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-03-03
Updated: 2003-03-03
Packaged: 2017-10-13 16:28:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/139326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonny/pseuds/Sonny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>WHAT IF ... Brian could lose Michael? What would happen? You know only death can separate True Love, but then again if you're given a Second Chance ... would you take it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING... Aftermath of a car accident w/Justin and Michael ; Kris... we're doin' this BABY! You know what I went through to write this and I feel all the more safe in letting everyone read what moved both of us to tears... again and again. Let's just hope they still like me afterwards.

Sitting in the middle of a pitch meeting, Brian watched his new partner as a page came through in vibrating mode. Out of habit he reached down to silence the beeper as he peeked at the number sent across the LCD screen. He didn't recognize it, so he wrote it off as a glitch to the system. He went back to pretend he was, at least, mildly interested in what Gardner was saying. He truly used the time to eyeball each of the clients. He already knew their campaign, so not really paying attention wasn't going to hurt him in the least.

Nearly thirty minutes later, while still in the same meeting, Brian received the second page. This time it had become his turn at bat. The number, from before, flashed again. Excusing himself to turn away to face the back wall, Brian found himself blurring his pupils over trying to place the wrong digits. Using the empty legal pad in his grasp, Brian jotted down the series of numbers for Cynthia to search for while he carried on with the meeting. He secretly slipped her the paper, when no one was looking and made an underhand gesture for her to know she should get the information quickly. No one noticed when she stepped away from her seat at the long table and crept out of the room.

Five minutes later, Cynthia was back in her seat having gathered as much as she could to be coherent for Brian to read and understand. She used the same sheet of paper he'd given to her. As he was finishing up his spiel, he attempted to gauge her facial expressions, but she kept them hidden behind her long blond ringlets. Her head never rose once as she continued to scribble on her steno pad writing the minutes to the meeting. The only thing about her that seemed irregular was the intermittent shaking of her hands. He tried to end his speech with allowing Gardner the chance to close out the rest of the deal. He retook his chair beside hers and snagged the paper folded on the tabletop. He wished he had left it alone after reading the first line of what she'd written.

 **BRIAN, THE NUMBER IS TO THE EMERGENCY ROOM.  
THERE'S BEEN AN ACCIDENT. DEBBIE SAYS IT'S URGENT.**

Slowly, Brian refolded the paper while he rolled the chair backwards. He walked blindly toward Gardner to whisper, in his ear, that he'd be stepping into his office to make an important phone call. He didn't stay to find out if his partner would allow him to exit a pitch meeting so early. He didn't care, really. Something wasn't right about the message. Cryptic... could be anything... or concern anyone.

Hospital. Justin. Bat struck to the head. So much fucking blood. Would he be able to do this again? Closing his office door, Brian took in a deep breath preparing himself for the worst. His cell phone hung off his belt. He plugged in the numbers trying to ease his erratic heartbeats. He shouldn't assume such terrible news. Debbie Novotny knew a lot of Liberty Avenue people. After three rings, a voice finally came over the line.

"Hello, Emergency Room. Gavin, speaking... How may I help you?"

"Can I speak to Debbie Novotny?"

"Is this Mr. Kinney? Brian Kinney?"

"Yeah, this is he." Brian knew something was already brewing by the tone of the man's voice. Too sugary sweet. Bad news front coming.

"Mr. Kinney,... Brian, I'm so sorry..." The voice held a little too much sympathy for his sake.

Brian shut his eyes to hold back any anger. "Please, don't do that. Where's Debbie? Can I talk to her? I was told to reach her at this number."

"I'm sorry... She had to be sedated less then twenty minutes ago."

"What?! Christ!? What's going on?!" He put a hand to his forehead.

"A car accident. Several."

"Who was involved?"

"Six victims. Three fatalities."

"Do I know any of the victims? Is that why Debbie tried to contact me?"

There were papers being shuffled in the distance as the ER technician was looking through charts. "Uh, I'm sorry but under HIPAA regulations and our standard policy on privacy for the patient I cannot tell you much of anything." There was a long pause as the Tech pondered how to respond to such deep silence. "Uh, I suppose if you gave me some names, I might be able to say 'Yes or No'."

Closing his eyes, Brian tried to find a place to sit as his knees almost gave out from under him. He plopped down on his cluttered coffee table. He tried to put some clues together in his head. Debbie calling him... three people were a possibility... six victims, three dead... Debbie collapses and needs to be sedated... either Vic or Michael... Shit, could even be Sunshine. She'd come pretty close to being the boy's surrogate mother. Last time at the Emergency Room was with Justin near death barely hanging on a thread of life.

"Mr. Kinney?" The small voice came back through the hazy fog.

"Thanks, but I think it's better I don't know shit until I get there." Brian was about to hang up on the Tech, but decided that would be rude. "Tell them... I'm on my way." With that, he pressed the 'end' button. He continued to sit in painful silence, on the coffee table, unable to sense all the gadgetry poking at his backside. A tiny knock sounded on the door. Brian never looked up to see who it was coming through.

"Brian, it's me. How you doing?"

"Ask me tomorrow." He reopened his hazel eyes looking completely heartsick.

Cynthia quickly entered the office, shut the door and leaned back against the paneling. Her heart began to beat a hundred miles an hour. "Is it bad?"

"They had to sedate Debbie."

"Oh... my... God! Michael . . ."

Holding his hand out with the phone still enclosed, Brian swayed Cynthia from talking any more. "Stop that right now! I don't know much more then you do, so let's not dramatize what we know nothing about."

"How can you not?!"

"Because... he wouldn't..." Brian paused unable to push the words out of his mouth that were brewing in his mind. They didn't sound correct to his ears. "He just wouldn't... leave... like that. Not to me. Not for Michael."

Tears pooled so easily in Cynthia's eyes as she pondered the thoughts in her head. "Any fatalities?"

"Six victims... three dead." He sounded so robotic, like the words meant nothing.

One clenched fist wrapped about her unsettled abdomen as the other went to smooth her shaking lips. "Were they able to tell you who?"

Brian shook his head slowly. "No, hospital policy and stuff... 'sides I didn't want to know."

"You're on your way over." She sounded more like she was telling him to do the action rather then asking him. She walked over to Brian knowing full well that he would never show his true emotions during any given situation. She'd been privy to some outlandish reactions, but she had never seen him appear so... lost... and dejected. Like his best friend had gone missing.

"A hospital is the last place I want to be right now." He finally took the opportunity to see where he had sat down. "And Gardner probably wants me in when the client signs on the dotted line. I don't want to leave him to take all the credit." When Brian turned to face where Cynthia was standing, he found her hand on his shoulder. "Cyn, don't..."

"Shut! Up! You are gonna fucking listen to me, Kinney!" She finally allowed the pent up tears to flow while squeezing the material of Brian's suit covering his hard biceps. "I can handle Gardner. I know this client as well as you do. We spent most of this weekend and last night finalizing their damn ad campaign. I know the whole deal through and through. You are going to the hospital if I have to strap you in the security van and ride you over myself." She tried to sound toughened and steely, but failed as a tender smile sneaked out. "I've begun to care about Michael, as much as you do. I want you to find out, for me, if that's what will motivate your ass... how he's doing. I will be here until seven tonight. Give me a call when you know things. Okay?"

"I have no idea what I'm walking in on. So, please don't count on my call."

"I'll feel better once I know you're there... with him." Cynthia felt she needed to do something extra in order to convey her emotions. Brian wasn't a touch-y-feel-y kind of man, so she would be careful and go slowly. Her trembling hand reached out to caress the opposite cheek facing away from her. This was one of the few times she believed Brian had let her touch his shaven skin. For a man who proclaimed strong masculinity, deviant behavior and unapologetic ways, she was always fascinated how he managed to have the softest cheek she'd ever felt. Holding back her overflowing emotions, she somehow quickly pressed a kiss to the other cheek as she sweetly petted his skin. "Be safe, Brian." She then ran from the office as if she might be punished for foolishly opening up herself.

Brian watched her exit while moving to touch the area that had cooled. Debbie used to touch him like that. The times she needed him to know she loved him no matter how much bullshit was headed her way. Odd that a cold bitch, like Cynthia, still kept a little heart inside. He had rubbed off on her since the beginning of their working relationship. As he went to stand, he couldn't prevent the avalanche of stuff scattering to the floor. He'd clean that up later, unless Cynthia got bored. He patted himself down making sure he had everything in order to leave the building with a clear conscience. The minute his door opened, Cynthia was right there with his coat, scarf and gloves. Was it too late to add her to his Christmas list?

****************************************

The long winding hallways were all too familiar a scene for Brian to take in. He mustered the courage to walk down the tiled floor without fainting from the scents wafting up at him. Not that he had a fear of hospitals, but he'd had a history with this particular one that went back to his childhood. Most recently he had arrived on the ambulance with Justin after the prom over a year ago. This Emergency Room didn't garner much in pleasant memories. As a rebelling teenager, he'd been attempting to comprehend the misguided love of an inebriated parent. On those occasions, he always took Michael with him. Brian could get away with explaining black eyes and bruised/broken ribs as sports injuries. Only the difficulties came when trying to carry the story at three o'clock in the morning on a school night with no adult supervision. Doctors and nurses tended to believe more from Michael's innocent and honest face, then that of his own battered one.

Brian silently praised Cynthia for her thoughtfulness to remind him to wear his soft, leather gloves. Now, he could figure the true meaning behind his hands shaking slightly. The nerves would have to be disguised under heavy lock and key. He couldn't show signs of weakness to anyone but those he felt safe with. Thank God it turned out to be Uncle Vic. He spotted him waiting outside one of the Trauma room doorways. He walked up to the second set of automatic doors as he made his way over to the older man. Vic appeared as if his only sense of gravity was the wall he was using to support his body.

Absorbing the instant heat of the manufactured warmth, Brian pulled off his gloves, one finger at a time, as he caught up to Vic. After months of perfect health, on his new medicine routine, Brian noticed that he looked every bit of his elder years, and then some. He nodded toward Vic as he stood next to him glancing around the crowded ER waiting room. He caught a glimpse of Lindsay, and a pacing Melanie, in front of one of the bed areas marked for Trauma patients. Brian heard a deep exhale from Vic.

He clamped a hand on Vic's thin shoulder. "So, what's going on?"

Vic gathered up enough will to smile as best he could. "You're the last one to arrive."

"That's me. Fashionably late." Brian continued to stare down the hallway. He could see through the glass doors where only employees and certain family members were allowed. Now, he saw Ted and Emmett exit from behind the curtain.

"Where is he?" He moved to glare at Vic.

"What do you know?"

"Not much. Some privacy rule. They couldn't tell me much on the phone."

Vic rubbed a fluttering hand over his brow. "Shit! That's why Deb wanted to get you on the phone. She paged you twice, I think." He wasn't looking for blame.

Brian felt he needed to explain. "I was in a meeting."

Vic simply nodded and took the response as truth. "That's Justin. Down in Trauma bed four. They want to keep him overnight, or for at least 24hrs, since he has a history of a head injury."

"Mmm... where is he?"

"Brian,... son, I don't want..."

"No need to drag this out, Vic. I need..." Brian reached out to place a random hand on Vic's shirt collar nearly close to losing the only ounce of patience he had left. "I have to know... something."

"I... I can't take the chance." Vic painfully swallowed as he almost crumbled in front of Brian. "I don't know where to begin."

"Hey, Ssshh." He pulled the man who'd been a father figure to him for so many years into his arms as he comforted him. He knew Vic was only protecting him, like always, but he wanted to learn what was sending everyone into tailspins. Letting him go, Brian used the flat of one hand to smooth Vic's shirtfront. "Can you at least tell me... is he... did he...?"

"No." Vic shook his head weakening under his release of emotions. God, he loved these boys as much as his sister did. Brian and Michael, as a pair, were his special sons. Boys he could claim he'd shaped into men. He loved them as if they were his own. "You know, for years, I've been on the other side of that door. Clinging to my last breath and attempting to survive from this illness as best I could. Now, I know it ain't a trip to Disney on this side, either." Vic faced away from Brian's gaze as he wondered what to say next. So many things to tell. "That fucking kid has managed to work his way into my gut. I feel like my own heart is breaking."

"Yeah, Justin's pretty special." Brian patted Vic's slumped shoulder.

"I was talking about Michael, Brian."

Brian inhaled a difficult breath as he stared down at Vic. "We don't need to go down this road. He's shown us the strengths of a hero too many times."

"Yeah, well, maybe this time is different. Remind my unconscious sister of that strength. She's laying in bed two in the regular ER."

"How's she doing? Before she collapsed and all?"

"She was holding her own. I now realize what hell I put her through when I was sick. Somehow, though, this seems ten times as worse. Michael's her world. Her heart. Everything I love about my crazy, wacky sibling is etched in that boy's soul. If we lost him... it'd be like being unable to breathe again."

"Don't talk like that Vic. He will pull through."

He attempted to nod his head, but the effort was light. "Searching for a miracle, where there is none. Do you want to see him?"

"Michael?!" Brian barely choked out the name he'd been unable to say.

"Justin, son."

Brian looked through the Trauma doors to Justin's area. "Looks like he has enough fans to support him already."

"Might do you both good to talk. See one another."

"Too awkward."

"And this was comfortable for you?"

"Does he know anything about Michael?"

"They've tried to keep him quiet and resting, but he knew before that Michael was in the car with him. Now, he's no where here. So he's only been working on assumptions. Especially since the rest of us know everything else and we vowed not to say a word."

"I think it's better for him to not know."

"He feels guilty."

"Why?"

"He was driving."

"SHIT!" Brian swiveled away from Vic. The four visitors of Justin's were making their way down the hallway and through the doorway. Lindsay was the first to grab for Brian. She tried to comfort him as she nearly sobbed in his arms. "Hey! Hey! Hey!"

"I'm so sorry, Brian." She pulled out of his embrace to hold his face in her hands. Her wet cheeks displayed every emotion she was feeling.

"What do you have to be sorry for?"

Emmett, who'd moved to stand as extra support for Vic, wrapped an arm about his shoulders. "Does he know?"

At Vic's solemn, cautious gaze, everyone grew silent.

Ted paced away from the group wiping a hand across the back of his head. "Jesus Christ!"

Vic peered around him at all the sad, pathetic faces quietly wondering what he had been doing with Brian all this time. "Well, I figured I couldn't take the chance he would do something like Debbie did."

Melanie crossed her arms over her chest in defiance. "Why is everyone treating Brian like he's made of glass?"

"What are you keeping from me?" Brian glanced at each guilty face.

Lindsay rubbed a hand down Brian's back. "Sit down, honey."

Stubborn, Brian remained locked to Lindsay's side, as she tried to let him go. "I can hear at this height."

Both Emmett and Ted silently agreed to get Brian to comply with their wishes. They collectively charged and pushed him back toward an empty area of chairs.

"Please, listen to us this once." Emmett took a spot next to Brian as he held onto his right arm.

"How about this..." Ted sat on the other side of Brian. "Michael would have made you sit." That seemed to have glued Brian down. Emmett could let him go, but he didn't dare.

"Sit... and take what?" He glanced at all the eyes that were avoiding him directly. Only Vic's eyes remained on him for a reaction.

Melanie pulled herself up to stand, somewhat, in front of Brian. "We need to tell you what happened... what will happen... to Michael."

"They had to take him to surgery." Lindsay chimed in as she stood next to Melanie, hands in her pocket. She wanted to hold Brian so badly.

Emmett found an interesting piece of lint on his sweater. "He has massive internal bleeding from the impact of the crash."

Ted scratched at his hairline. "Once they had him on the table, something went batty with his vital signs."

Melanie took her next turn on the Round Robin. "Doctors say Michael had a small stroke from a constricted blood vessel to his brain. The x-rays never picked it up. He coded on the table."

Lindsay saw the pasty white sheen to Brian's face. "BUT!..." She felt he needed to know things had progressed further. "... they were able to bring him back. Only now, because of the stroke, and the cardiac arrest, they don't want to take him back to the OR for fear of losing him again."

Emmett bit his lip to keep from bawling like a baby. Holding on to Brian was giving him some strength. "He's not out of the water with the internal bleeding, either They said they're hoping the injuries he received in the accident can withstand treatment of just medications and Michael's improving health, until he's better able to go back to surgery."

Ted looked up at Melanie, who nodded her head for him to say the rest. Possibly the worst portion of news. "The stroke has rendered Michael unconscious. They can't figure out how he managed to sustain the kind of head trauma without showing outward signs. There's no blood, or bruising, to his head, or neck." He stopped speaking to pause and look away not able to voice much as he felt emotions rising again. He felt like hitting something.

Melanie decided she'd bear the bad news. "The doctors say that they won't be able to tell if Michael will wake up. They say that it may last for weeks, maybe even months."

The voices had come at him in a circle of thought. He looked over at Vic who made a head gesture of "See what I mean.". The questions behind Brian's eyes were too much for him to take. It was too late to protect him now. Brian still had the gloves clenched tightly in his hands. "I still don't know what you're all trying to say."

Melanie paced away while rubbing her palms up over her face and through her short cropped hair. "Christ!"

Emmett squeezed his hold on Brian's biceps. "Sweetie, the future doesn't hold much for him."

"What future? The holidays in Madrid? The plans to go back to college? The opportunity to meet and marry Mr. Right?"

Ted moved away from Brian's side in frustration. "I think Mel had the right idea. I don't know why we tried to tell him so gently."

"Hey, 'he' is right here in front of you." Brian snapped at Ted.

Ted turned around ready to sucker punch Brian. "No. I don't think so! Because if you were here at all... you would have answered your pages, you would have beaten down the doors to know Michael's prognosis and maybe, just maybe, upon hearing the words 'HE FUCKING DIED ON THE TABLE!', you might have shown some semblance of an emotion!" Ted used every word to shove his presence into Brian's face.

Lindsay moved to shuffle Ted back and away from Brian's wrath. "We don't need this right now!"

Emmett found a new reason to keep at Brian's side. Protect Ted from getting his ass kicked. "Honey, we all deal with grief in our own way. Don't shoot Brian down just because you need proof he's dying inside. We all are, Ted. Michael loved every single one of us."

"No! See, Em, you don't know when to let go. Michael's gone. Whatever happens to him now, he'll never be the same."

"Ted, you don't mean that!" Lindsay cried out.

Emmett sent out a weak smile. "Let him, sweetie. This is his way of coping."

Ted placed his hands on his hips. "I'm not coping. I'm facing reality, which none of you seem to want to do."

Feeling brave, Vic came away from his post at the wall. "Theodore Schmidt! We've allowed you in our homes, and our lives, when you believed no one else wanted a thing to do with you. You stand there claiming some bond with Michael... and in that same breath shun him as if he's nothing but a cold, lifeless body." Vic walked over toward Ted at every single word he said. "Who picked you up after every rejection? Who was there for you when it looked as if no other man would want to share the same air with you? Whom did you run to when you needed that unconditional love that only a giving soul like Michael could show you? Who came to your bedside when you were in a coma? And you have the gall to stand here, pointing blame on Brian's head? Brian can defend himself, but I'll be damned if I will allow you to call that sweet boy upstairs no longer a part of the living. He might be a Novotny, but he was a Grassi first and foremost. And Grassi men don't let go so easily. They hold on with the fucking strength of ten men." He ended his speech by using his own finger to shove at Ted's chest.

Ted crumbled right into Vic's arms, holding and hugging him. "I know. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. So sorry."

"Hey, it's okay. I know how you feel, but the anger is not necessary." Vic held Ted as he comforted him.

"I didn't mean anything I said."

"We know. He knows, too."

Lindsay tried to keep her distance from everyone. They all seemed to grow two heads and a nastiness to their manners. Everyone had grudges against Brian. No one but she and Michael ever understood this complicated human. She used the time to gauge and become aware of Brian reacting to everything. If anything he was non reactive and quiet. Way too quiet. She decided to step up quickly and voice her decision.

"Look, I think we all need to step away. I need some 'alone' time with Brian. Why don't you guys take a break. Go get a cup of coffee, smoke 'em if you got 'em, or fill up your empty bellies." This wasn't a simple request. She meant business.

Through the grumbling and mumbles as everyone departed their separate ways, Lindsay repositioned a chair to face Brian. He hadn't glanced up from bowing his head. All, but Melanie, had placed a kiss to Brian's forehead as they made their way out, silently conveying their sadness to him. She moved to situate her legs barring him from moving on either side of his knees. Her palms gently cupped his kneecaps.

"You doing all right?"

"Depends. Do I need to be worried?"

"No."

"Good. 'Cause I'm not."

"Okay, I suppose. You want to speak with Justin?"

He shrugged lifting his head to look about the room. "I don't know. I'm not so sure I want to know every bloody detail." He couldn't bare to glance at Lindsay even once. "So... this thing... is it really bad...?" Placing his right elbow on the arm of his chair, Brian chose to rest his chin on his bent hand in deep thought.

The simple inquiry tore at Lindsay's heart and gut. She stared Brian down as the tears pooled in her eyes. Her lips quivered as she tried to contain her deepest regret and sorrow.

"Please," Brian begged helplessly at a loss as to how to speak. "... don't do that." He didn't mean to sound hurtful, or angry, but how was one to handle learning the possible fate of your best friend's future? His hand slowly moved to cover his unreadable face.

"Brian," She sniffled softly and pursued the conversation. "Why don't you tell me what you want to do?"

"I don't want to be here. With this happening. Not like this."

"Would there have been a much better time?"

"I guess not, but the unexpectedness of every..."

"That's why it's called an accident."

Brian smirked oddly at Lindsay. "How very unladylike of you... wiseass."

Lindsay chuckled lightly growing serious again. "I got to thinking, when the place seemed to be hushed in this loud silence, how when something like this happens... knocks us off our feet and down on our ass, it makes us wish for more time. Time enough to say what's in our hearts."

"Regrets?"

"Maybe, but no... not actually. What's the one thing you'd wished to have gotten to say to Jack?"

"Fuck you, old man?"

She slapped one of his knees. "No! Come on. Think about this really hard. What's one thing you never told him?"

"You need work on your parenting skills."

"Brian."

"You have a mean left hook."

"You are not helping."

"What do you want me to say? I had already told him I was gay, what more was there left for me?"

"I've known you long enough to recall that your one true desire was to tell him you loved him. To have him repeat it back while telling you how proud he was. That despite the pain and torture you went through, you still needed him."

"Ha! You think you know me."

"I do."

"Hardly, but wherever you're going with this... I want you to be aware, Michael knows how we all feel. So don't even try to compare him to Jack."

"Does he know, Brian? Even from you?"

"I never had to say the words for him to understand how I felt... how I feel about him."

"Oh, yeah, I've heard Michael say the words, but not actually from your own lips. You sure about yourself? That he knows everything?"

"Yes, Dr. Lindsay."

"All your feelings, and his, were put out in the open? He embraced them, as did you, accepted you and you did the same?"

"What are you trying to get me to admit, Linds?"

"About being honest with yourself. Mainly with Michael."

"About what?" Brian feigned confusion at what Lindsay was attempting to get out of him.

"You love him."

"Well, yeah, we've been best friends for a long time."

"And how much of that time have you been 'IN' love with him?"

"Excuse me?"

"Admit it."

"I am not."

"You are." Lindsay replied as if she was stating facts.

"Who said?"

"I've gotten better over the years at reading you perfectly when you're not willing to voice your feelings aloud. Especially when it concerns Michael."

"You two discuss me? Behind my back?" Brian grew uncomfortable in the chair at Lindsay's scrutiny. He fidgeted in his seat.

"No. I know where Michael's been, where he is and where he'll eventually end up. I fancied myself 'in' love with you in much the same way." Lindsay patted Brian's pant leg to assure him that there were no hard feelings. "The love I have for you today is different, more mature."

"Different? Sounds like I lost to second place."

"You had to, for my sanity." She refocused her eyes back to Brian's face, hoping she'd see further into his feelings. "He loves you. He always will."

"Uh-huh, like I said before... friends for years."

"He'd do anything for you."

"Do not push this on me!"

"Can you even fathom what happened? What it could mean?"

"I told you I'd like to forget, but you all keep reminding me."

"Are the words so difficult to say?"

"I could say them."

"No, I don't think so."

"I beg to differ."

"Look, Brian, Michael nearly lost his life an hour ago. No doctor can touch him until he, himself, heals his body. The risk is too fatal. Something, possibly someone, brought him back. Thinks he has a purpose. So he's laying on that hospital bed, machines and medicines keeping him alive as he clings to a fragile speck of hope. Maybe waiting for the chance to say a final goodbye."

Brian pushed himself forward so he almost landed in Lindsay's lap. "Baby, it's not me!" He stood up and forced his way out of Lindsay's cocoon. Brian was going to try and sound assured of the fact. "I'm certain he might need to say words to Deb, or even Vic."

"No, honey, I don't think so." She stood up to be available to hold Brian if he needed. He was on the edge now. Finally able to comprehend what might lay ahead of them.

"Maybe Michael needed to tell Emmett where he hid next month's rent."

"Now, that's foolish, Brian."

"Ben... He's waiting for Ben to return from that monk thing in Tibet?"

Lindsay stood still for a minute as she realized that Brian would always believe that he and Michael had a close relationship, but there were some things Michael still kept secret. "He didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"I'm not sure, Brian, this might not be my place to say, but under these circumstances... with Michael's life in the balance."

"Don't say things like that. I thought you were my optimist."

"There are certain things in life, Brian that test faith in myself. Maybe this time is yours."

"No!" Brian began to pace back and forth a hand to his head. "Why don't you humor me while I wait?"

"Ben's not coming back."

Brian paused on the carpet. "What do you mean? He told me, just the other day, about a three hour phone call with Ben."

"And did you really listen? Unless you paid Michael an ounce of attention, you'd have put together that the length of the phone call had nothing to do with making up for lost time."

"That little shit!"

Lindsay tsk-ed at Brian's misplaced anger. "Don't get upset with him now. I'm not so sure I should have told you. This is Michael private life." She didn't know why Brian was more angry with Michael. "So, now you know. You gonna find Ben and beat the shit out of him?"

"No. Why should I? It sure would have been nice to know. I feel like a fool. I thought Michael was back to being comfortable with telling me these kinds of things. Sharing like we did when were growing up." Brian then began to roll thoughts around in his head. "At least now I know why he's had so much time on his hands."

"Yeah, poor you. You think Michael has some 'obligation' to open all his festering wounds for your ridicule?"

"Linds, please, I do have some manners. There's no harm in wanting to be there for each other."

"Sure. No harm. Even Stevens. Fair amount of give and take. Yet you've never bothered knowing what it's like on the other side."

"Other side? What, are we living in a soap opera?"

"I got two words for you, Kinney"

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah... Troy Paul."

"Troy Paul? What the fuck are you saying?"

"You knew I had a mad crush on Troy in college."

"Yes and you were quite pathetic about the whole deal. A typical frat boy."

"I wanted to ask him to Homecoming at Susan Vera's party the weekend before. Remember?"

"Yeah, but what's this have to do with me and Michael?"

Lindsay was a little breathless at Brian's blatant forgetfulness. "I can't believe you don't remember."

"Obviously, it's remained fresh in your mind."

"Troy had blown me off. Like some random jock groupie. I went looking for you. I ran into Susan, thanked her for the invite, told her I was cutting the night short and had she seen you. See, I needed my best friend and I couldn't bare staying at the party any longer. Out by the pool is where she said she'd seen you last."

"Is there a point to this?"

"Hell, yeah! Oh, I found you. Right where she said. Having your dick sucked by none other then Troy Paul behind the cabana. Embarrassing and humiliating for me. I forgave you after a few weeks, but I never forgot how you made me feel."

"I guess not. And how is this a shining example of Michael and me?"

"Rejection sucks on its own merits. It hurts worse when carried out by your supposed 'best' friend. When we lose, you always seem to win."

"I have never done that to him."

"Bullshit! You've just never hung around long enough to find out."

"I don't need this right now, Linds."

"Why not? I would figure this to be a happy day for you."

"Christ! Where the hell is this coming from?"

"After nearly a decade of being there for you, Brian... could you ever find it in your heart to finally 'be there' for Michael?"

Brian was about to walk away from Lindsay's rages, but she stopped him. "Let me go, Linds!"

"No! Don't walk away!" Lindsay grabbed for his swaying arms. She had him by his overcoat.

"I don't want to fight you. Let me be."

"I know you, Brian. Like my own self in shadows. You're speechless, unable to voice a word and you want to shout something out loud to the world. Hope that someone up there listens and makes sense of it all. Your first reaction is to push the idea away, like it never happened. But it did. Then you get angry, but it's foolishly spent on the one person you need to hold on to right now. And finally you see inside of yourself. Realize that however perfect you thought your world to be, there's gonna be a brick thrown into the window. Shattering the glass into tiny pieces. Pieces that you might never be able to put back together."

Brian shut his eyes at Lindsay's words. He hated when she was right. At least she wasn't rubbing his face in it. "I need you to shut up right now."

"I can't, Brian, because I see you, I know you're hurting and I love you. I want Michael to live so you don't have to be sad anymore. So you can have your sappy second chance miracle. I want that happy ending for you."

"I'm not built for this. I don't do drama well. I avoid it like the plague." He reopened his eyes to look down at Lindsay, then found it was much worse to watch her cry. "Every time bad shit rose to the top, he was always there. Even when the bad shit happened to him and I had to support him, he was still there driving me to be good, sweet, kind and nice. Like him. Now that it's him and he's not here, by my side,... I don't have the strength to go through it."

"How do you know he's not still there? And how do you know for sure you can't? You've learned nothing from the Master?"

"No one could replace Michael. And this is no time for jokes."

"I wanted to see you smile." Lindsay let go of his coat arms and kept her hands on the soft material petting the texture. "You managed to pull through for Ted."

"That was a fluke. I went to the hospital to do nothing. I was angry with him for putting me in that position."

"Even so, Brian, you showed up at his bedside. That says a lot no matter what happened. Can't you do the same for Michael?"

"This is different."

"How so?"

"Michael's been... I can't... I don't think I can see him so soon." Brian was able to worm his way out of Lindsay's hold. "Has anyone checked on Debbie?"

Lindsay reluctantly let Brian begin distancing himself, knowing he needed his space to do his own thing. Cope with this tragedy on his own. "Vic sat with her for an hour, but found it difficult when she woke up asking about Michael. He was so wrought over him, I don't think he'd have kept a calm face in front of her. I think that's where you found him."

"I'm going to go see if she's awake."

"I think she'd like that. Maybe you should try to see Justin, too. He won't sleep well tonight without talking with you. Knowing you're okay with what happened and won't hold a grudge against him. He knows something has happened to Michael. He's not really telling any of us what went on in the car after the crash, but I'm sure it's not pretty. He might be saving the discussion for you." Lindsay sent him off with a kiss to his cheek as he turned away from her.

******************************************

Brian wandered toward the main nurse's station of the ER. A solitary unit clerk sat at her computer typing steadily. Experience had taught him well to use any means to gain access into the room. "Excuse me..."

The ER clerk raised her head. "Can I help you, sir?"

"Is, uh..." Brian pinched his nose to recall the name from the phone conversation earlier today. "Gavin? Is Gavin available?"

"He's with a patient right now. May I tell him who's asking for him?"

"Oh, well, I'm here to see Debbie Novotny. Gavin had answered the phone when I called this number."

"Let me see." The clerk glanced at a hanging clipboard while peering behind at a nearby dry-erase board. "He might be in with her now. Are you family?"

"Yes. I'm her nephew." Brian felt like being Uncle Vic's son this time. "Brian Kinney."

"Brian, you say?"

"Yeah, is there a problem?" Brian took in a deep breath wondering if he would need to work another lie to get inside.

"No. Only that Mrs. Novotny has been looking for you since she woke up. She's been hounding Gavin to keep an eye out for you."

"Oh, sorry... my cousin, Michael... Debbie's son, had been brought in as a trauma. I was just getting updated on his condition so I could tell her something new, or whatever she needed to know."

The clerk's face showed an honest and deep sincerity. "I'm sorry you've had to receive such terrible news in one day. Your Aunt will be behind the second curtain on your left as you walk through the doors."

"Thanks." Brian found this was the first pleasant experience he'd had in the ER. He moved to head in the direction of the swinging doors, but held back as normal traffic was passing him by. As he made his way to the pulled curtain, he could hear Debbie gabbing about Michael. She sounded boastful and proud, like she always did for her only son. Brian took a minute to absorb the noise. He envied Michael because no matter how small the accomplishment he completed, his mother would forever be his champion.

Inhaling in a deep intake of air, Brian prepared himself for facing his most feared opponent. Debbie Novotny could read people like a book, especially when it came to the men in her life. She knew and understood the real Brian Kinney. The moment he heard silence he took a chance Debbie would be ready for him.

She was sitting up in the stretcher, laying back against a pile of pillows and her hands bothering the red wig that was usually on her head. Her hands stopped their fidgeting once she caught sight of Brian coming through the open material. "Shit!" She dropped the hair in her lap and quickly went to cover her embarrassed face. "I didn't want you to have to see me like this."

Brian shrugged never bothered by Debbie's natural look. Although he could do without the dried tracks of tears he saw on her cheeks. "Call it payback for all those years you held my head over the crapper."

"Oh, Jesus! Don't remind me. You drank like a fish and Mich-... could barely handle a sip of wine at dinner. Raised Italian, no less. Once, I'd come home to find you two had left the liquor cabinet wide open. The trail led me out into the backyard where I found you two passed out on the lawn." She was having difficulty saying Michael's name out loud and found it even harder in front of Brian. "Christ! I'm a basket case."

"I think you're allowed, considering the circumstances." Brian tried to give the nurse checking Debbie's vital signs a chance to do her job and, hopefully, exit shortly.

The young lady smiled sweetly as she made her way to the opening of the curtain. "Once the doctor's seen these latest vitals, Mrs. Novotny, I'm sure he'll agree to send you home soon."

Debbie kept the plastered smile on her face, "Thanks, doll." As she watched the nurse exit, she tried to keep a calm and collected face. The minute the material went back around the curved track, Debbie reached out a shaking hand toward Brian. Her face began to fall into sorrow. "Come here..." The words barely left her mouth.

"Oh... fuck!" Brian nearly had to dive for her hand as he took her entire upper body weight in his arms. "No, Deb, please, don't do this to yourself." He moved his rear to sit awkwardly on the side of the mattress.

"He's... my baby..." She sputtered out breathlessly.

"Getting better as we speak."

"How do you know this?" She sniffed like a small child and wiped the sleeve of her shirt over her nose.

"I know Michael." Brian pushed Debbie away to help her clean up. "As his mother, you should know him better then anybody."

"I'm scared, honey. What if... Jesus, what if... his time was up and he's foolishly holding on to something? For someone? Hoping for the impossible . . ."

"Maybe Michael didn't think it was time and believed it was possible."

"Is it?"

"Is what it?"

Tears pooled in her eyes again as she put her hands up to cup Brian's face. She tenderly caressed the beginnings of his five o'clock shadow. "He came back for you, sweetie."

"Christ! Not you, too!?" Brian tried to move out of her grip, but she was holding him strong.

"Don't you dare roll your eyes at me, young man. Yes, I do know my own son, but I've gotten to know you, as well."

He closed his eyes to protect his emotions. "He loves you and Uncle Vic."

"True, but we don't have any unfinished business with him. He knows how we feel about him."

"He knows how I feel."

"Are you sure? Something tells me Michael's not so certain." She could see Brian becoming uncomfortable. "Kiddo, is it really that hard to tell him?"

"How good would it do now?"

She cleared her throat of all sadness and paid attention to Brian. He needed her guidance and was shy enough not to know how to ask for it. She put a hand out to rest against his chest. Through all the time Brian had been at the hospital, no one had bothered asking him if he wanted to take off any of his layers of coats. Everything was coming to the surface, as she felt the steady increase of his heartbeat. "Think of this as a deep sleep. He may respond to voices. I read to Vic for hours, played him his favorite music and I talked to him as if he was part of the discussion. The nurses all thought I was a loon, but it kept his mind stimulated. After ten days, Vic was awake and off to a full recovery."

"I don't know if I can do it. I don't know how..."

"It will come to you, in time. We'll never know our own strengths until we're faced with tragedies like these."

"What do I say? Even if he is still there, how do I know he'll hear me?"

"Simple faith, honey." She shrugged as she tried to pick up how she was coping. "Loving Michael as much as he loves us."

"My track record is kind of shitty."

"Brian, you'd be surprised how much He," Her finger pointed upwards to the ceiling. "... can take from us and still be willing to cut us some slack."

"I leave the Holy-Rolling to Joan. At least it gives her extra comfort besides the booze."

Debbie made a mothering noise of displeasure as she pushed Brian away in a teasing manner. "Quit it! You never wanna give someone a second chance. Believe in others like you do Michael."

"I wish it were that easy."

"The day after you'd gone to college, I came home for lunch. Michael was home, but I called for him and he never answered. I needed help at the diner and I knew Michael was looking for extra money for tuition." Debbie paused as she thought back to that moment and how hard it was to witness. "Oh, I found him all right! He told me he was gonna go to the community college and check out their class schedules. Only the little shit didn't get very far. In the process of dressing for that morning he'd been going through his closet. Little did he, or I, realize how much of your clothing had literally taken up most of the tiny space. He'd been sitting on the floor, back against the door, legs pulled up to his chest... in his freakin' underwear! . . . tears dried on his face and clutching your leather jacket to his scrawny ribs like it breathed air into him. He'd fallen back asleep on that cold floor . . . half out and half in the closet. As if someone had murdered his best friend. You were gone from his life. Finally the reality sunk in. And I had no idea how to console him."

Brian had never known the private things that had happened to Michael when they separated. Finding out the little stories seemed sad and bittersweet. He was finding the weave of the hospital sheets fairly interesting to look at, or maybe he was too ashamed to look into Debbie's eyes. "What did you do?"

"Well, after I finished cussing you to Hell and back, crying my own eyes out... I threw a blanket down on him. I made sure he had something to eat in the kitchen when he was ready to come downstairs. Then I hightailed it back to work. Michael was no good to me, if all he thought about was you." Debbie closely watched Brian as he attempted to avoid her line of vision. "Hey, I didn't tell you this so I'd make you upset, or ashamed. I just hope you do what's right when you feel you need to."

"I was going to see Justin next. They've told me he's feeling really guilty about the accident."

"I think that's a good idea."

"I knew you would."

Debbie was aware they were both ignoring the one topic on their minds. "Do you plan on seeing him... at all?"

"Debbie..."

"I'm not trying to rush you, but I'm not so sure any of us can bare to sit at his bedside and wait out the hours. I could barely get through Vic's coma... Michael would just give me a heart attack."

"And I'm the next perfect candidate?"

Debbie scrunched up her face as she thought of a response. "Out of all of us... you are the only one with the most to lose."

"What does that mean?"

"What would you have done if you'd come here and found out Michael had been one of the victims who died?"

"But he wasn't... so let's not try and play out that scenario."

"There's a chance he might not make it, Brian. Are you willing to face that?"

"Oh-Kay!" Brian got up off the bed. "I'm done here. Are we through?"

"Brian, wait... !"

"Stay away, if you need to, Deb. Let Vic take you home. I'll call you later, if I have an update."

"Brian!" He was lost behind the curtain before she could catch him. "Damn!"

Debbie's conversation was becoming overloaded. He couldn't have withstood much more in her presence. As simple and plain as she tended to speak, she never knew how powerful her words were to others. He didn't want to hear anyone connect the word 'dead' and Michael in the same breath. He wasn't supposed to deserve that kind of fate. He was too good for Heaven, if such a place should exist. Most of all, Michael was needed down here even more. Brian didn't care how selfish the words sounded, but he knew he spoke the truth. Michael's life wasn't be over and done with so meant to quickly.

 

 **  
~~TBC...  
**


	2. Chapter 2

He should have known that Justin would have gotten more visitors while he'd been with Debbie. Getting away from her and all those dormant feelings she was stirring up became top priority. He noticed Jennifer Taylor talking to a doctor outside of Justin's bed area. He went through the Trauma doors, but kept himself back making his way over slowly allowing them some privacy.

"Thank you, Doctor."

The doctor wrote something more on the chart and turned to face where Jennifer's head had swiveled. "His room should be ready in the next 30 minutes."

"Okay." She used the wall, behind her, to lean on as she exhaled the breath she'd been holding. Her head was bowed in thought, as she waited for Brian to come to her. "I'm glad to see you. They told us Justin's been asking for you."

"I almost didn't. I've been with Debbie."

"Any changes with Michael?"

"What do you know?"

"Lindsay managed to snag me before I came in. I'm so sorry, Brian. How's Debbie holding up?"

"Like a Mom who's trying to forget the critical condition of her child. Keeping calm in front of strangers, but falling apart with family."

Jennifer nodded her head. "And you?"

Brian laughed lightly as he thought how odd it was that Justin's mother was being civil to him. Strange, indeed. Michael would be touched. "Fine, for now, but..." Something in her face made him feel relaxed enough to be honest. "I'm not sure it's had a chance to settle in my head, yet."

"I know what you mean. When they contacted me, I thought only the worst. I practically ran all red lights and stop signs to get here. Ethan's in there with him now. I wanted to give them some time alone. Justin's agreed to stay overnight, but he continues to ask about Michael." She was asking as if wondering what they should do to curb Justin's interest.

"The less he knows... the better."

"That's what I was thinking, too." Jennifer glanced over to see Ethan coming out with a sad smile on his face. "Well?"

"I did the best I could. At least I got him to agree to stop pestering the staff about Michael." Ethan sighed heavily as if having completed some great task. "Brian."

"Ethan" Brian nodded toward the young man.

Jennifer didn't care about the cool tones between the men. "Thanks again, Ethan. Are you going to be able to stay with him at all?"

"Once they get him upstairs and settled in bed, I promised I'd come back for dinner. The hospital said that I might be able to stay until ten or eleven tonight. That's fairly decent since I do have a class in the morning. I need to get home to see if I got a call back."

"Oh, yeah! How did that audition go?"

"I think I did well. That's what the call will be about." He began to think about some random fact and chuckled lightly. "A funny thing was... Michael and Justin were headed out to come in support of me. If I had known..." He shook his head moving a hand up to run fingers through his dark wavy hair.

Brian felt like he was interfering in a private emotion only meant for Jennifer and Ethan. He cleared his throat as he became uncomfortable.

Jennifer wrapped a casual arm about Ethan's slumped shoulders. "Hey, we're all feeling a bunch of guilt for no apparent reason. No one is to blame." She placed a warm kiss to his temple as she semi-hugged him to her side. She was steadily becoming closer to her son's boyfriend as time went on. "I'm going to pop my head in, say goodbye and see if Debbie wants any visitors. Are you going to need a ride?" She moved to slip behind the curtain.

"Thanks. That'd be great. I'll be in the waiting room." Ethan tucked his thumbs in the back pockets of his jeans.

Both Brian and Ethan stood in deep silence as neither seemed to want to speak first.  
Ethan folded to the unsteady quiet, "How've you been, Brian?"

"Good, but today doesn't seem to be going very well."

Ethan chuckled again as the sarcasm fit the tone of the day. "You ain't kiddin'! Anything new with Michael?"

"No. I've only had an opportunity to see Debbie... not much else."

"Understandable. How is she?"

"Usual Debbie. I don't believe she'll really feel much until she gets home."

"I know what you mean." He appeared like he was going to make a break for the door, when he thought better of the idea. "For what it's worth, Brian, I would never have wished this on you. Michael's one of the good ones. He's never said an evil word to me. Although I know about his past concerning Justin, Michael has been there for us. I respect that."

"Thanks, I guess." Brian didn't know how to take what was being said. "He'll get over this hurdle."

Ethan nodded as he looked off in the distance. "Always the quiet ones, eh? The small guys are the toughest fighters." He watched as Brian actually smiled at him. It was then he knew what had caught Justin's eye. The man was beautiful, but his eyes held the world. Dangerous, indeed. "Take care, huh? And don't be too hard on yourself. Justin's pretty much willing to shoulder all the guilt, but he doesn't know what he's in for. I think we all need to just chalk this up to a wake up call." He gave a small wave as he made his way out.

Brian couldn't help, but stand still for a few minutes as he let the thought sink in that he'd been treated very kindly by his old enemies. Michael would have moved heaven and earth for him to get this kind of respect, but little did he know he could work his magic even laying in a coma. He remained along the wall as he waited for Jennifer to exit.

She did shortly after Ethan had left. She shyly smiled at Brian wondering how the days would go on for him as Michael lay so close to death. How odd that Justin was alive and Michael's life hung in the balance. Why did she feel so sad about being glad her son was alive? About ready to situate her clothing, Jennifer couldn't take the moment for granted any longer. In the spirit of Michael, she moved to hold Brian. His arms tentatively came around her waist. She let out a great sigh knowing she was doing a good thing. Brian Kinney was no longer her enemy. He was a beautiful man, who had a kind heart and was the best friend of a sweet soul like Michael Novotny. There had to be something redeeming about him.

After so many years of her underlying hatred, having Jennifer hug him like his own mother never did, was unnerving. He could feel the beginnings of tears almost well up in his eyes, but shook his head of that idea. "Thanks, Jennifer." He barely choked out as he felt her let go quietly making her way along the hallway toward the Trauma doors. She never turned back around to see his face. Thank God. Brian tried to gain some composure as he moved to the curtain surrounding Justin's bed. He pulled back the material to find him laying silently under the sheets. He nearly turned back to go out, but he heard his name.

"Brian!" Justin moved to sit up in the stretcher. "Stay. Please."

"I thought you were asleep." Brian knew this was a weak excuse for wanting to bail, but it sounded plausible.

"No. Resting my eyes." He closed them, licked his dry lips and moved to sit up on the bed. "They've given me some very strong pain medicine."

"Not exactly the kinda 'rush' you were looking for?"

Justin smiled weakly wiping a random palm against his face, as if a haze interfered with his vision. He was beginning to drop some of the apprehension he felt upon first seeing Brian. At least he wasn't as angry as expected. What shocked Justin the most was that Brian had come to him at all. "Nah, it's a different high. More controlled."

Brian hadn't wanted to seem nosey, but Justin hardly appeared like he had been involved in a three car pile up. There was no bruising or blood left displayed on his perfect body. "So... I heard you were looking for me."

Justin bit his upper lip as he nodded his head slowly protecting the back of his head. "Yeah. I thought we needed to talk while things were still fresh in my mind. And you could have my side of the story, if you needed it."

"Commendable, but couldn't this have waited until you were in the clear? I mean, twenty-four hours really isn't that long of a time."

"That's what everyone's been told to think."

"Excuse me?"

"Brian, I blacked out."

"What? When?"

"In the car. With Michael."

"Jesus Christ! What the fuck are you saying?!"

"Michael talked me into playing hooky for a few hours and going to see Ethan's audition. We got on the highway to head out there. My hand started cramping like it used to. I thought it was nothing. That it would go away like before, but it didn't... I, ah, lost control of the car."

Brian stood dumbfounded as he tried to picture what actually happened. "What the hell was Michael doing through all this?"

"Saving my lily white ass. He unbuckled his seat belt to help take over the wheel, or at least pull us over to the side of the road." Justin watched Brian cover his face as emotions overtook him. This was when Justin lost his cool and tears began to well in his eyes. "Michael calmed me down and got us to safety, but we didn't think about where we swerved the car. We skidded to a halt quite forcibly as the tires went over some rough surface. My head hit the steering wheel, up here..." Justin pointed to the area closest to his old injury with the bat. "After that I blacked out... all I remember next were the paramedics wheeling me into the ambulance. I barely saw two sheet covered bodies on the ground... but I couldn't find Michael. No one would tell me where he was or what happened." He almost finished the sentence before he completely crumbled into tears, openly in front of Brian. He didn't care any more about holding back his emotions. "Now, all everyone has done is change the subject when I ask... Fuck them! I don't even know if he's alive or dead!"

Grrreat! Figures they'd leave the hard work for him to finish up. At least they could have relieved him of some guilt by telling Justin something other then nothing. "He isn't dead. But he's going to have a harder road to heal then you do."

"Shit!" Justin fell back against the pillows at the head of his stretcher.

Brian leaned his arms on the railing as he placed a calming hand to Justin's heaving chest. "Take a deep breath. There's nothing any of us can do for him now. You're not alone in feeling guilty, or responsible."

"I was driving the car."

"A few years ago you were severely battered by a Louisville Slugger that left you deep in a coma for two weeks. You spent months undergoing intense physical and mental therapy to correct the problems resulting from the damage done to your brain. You don't bounce back from something like that... and one should expect residual effects later down the road. Things got scrambled around in that head of yours. I'm shocked it's taken this long to happen."

Justin was able to laugh, but somewhat nervous in response. "Thanks, I think. I told the doctor I had been having some pretty severe headaches, almost migraines, but I never passed out from them."

"More tests for tomorrow?"

"A majority were already done today. But I think he needed more time to study the x-rays and my case file before he wanted to send me on my way. He's fairly certain that the headaches and blacking out have something to do with my old injury, but he won't know until he digs deeper. He's warned me I may need to stay longer."

"How do you feel now?"

"Like I just killed your best friend."

"Shut the fuck up! Do not talk like that!"

"I'm sorry. I'm being honest. It's the way I feel right now."

Brian turned away from Justin unable to look him in the eyes without getting emotionally wrought over the path they were being led down, by no other will but their own. "What do you want me to do with that?"

Justin shrugged as he began to feel a little weak by the medicines he'd been given. "Use it against me. Hate me. I don't know. I want you to admit to feeling something tangible."

"If we're being honest... then all I can say is, as of right this minute, I feel empty. Half the shit I've been talking about has been shoved down my throat. People telling me they know me. That they know what I should be feeling, but you know what's scarey... I've had nightmares about this day. The day when I'd have to face a world without Michael in it. Wondering how I would cope. And I feel absolutely... nothing."

"You're all talk, Kinney. A world with no Michael is a world you don't want to be in. Don't even try to feed me this bullshit!" Justin went to cover his head with the bed linen. "Admit it. You love him." He mumbled from under the sheets.

Brian had enough from everyone. "Fuck you!"

"Just like you loved me!"

"I'm leaving!" Brian headed for the opening in the curtain.

"I love you, too... asshole!"

Brian sent an apologetic look to the staff standing around wondering what all the yelling and profanity was about. "The drugs are taking affect." That seemed to settle them back into their duties. He made his way to the Trauma doors to exit. He paused in the waiting room. No familiar faces were around. He picked up his cell phone as it vibrated in his pocket. "Kinney?"

"Brian? What's going on?" Cynthia sounded better then when he left her nearly in tears at the office.

"How'd the deal close?"

"Duh, like I even need to bother... we got it. Now, tell me what's new?"

"Justin's okay. Michael's not out of the woods, yet."

"What happened?"

"Did Gardner ask for me?"

"Brian, really, prioritize. Why the hell should Gardner care?"

"Because I'm gonna take some sick leave and vacation time, as of this morning."

Cynthia got quiet before she swallowed to respond, "How long?"

"I don't know. I might call you when I have a better grasp of what's happening. Don't be worried, though."

"Yeah, great. I won't. You tell me little information, ask for a questionable amount of time off and tell me not to panic?"

"It's for your own good. I'm here, Cyn. That's what you wanted."

"Have you seen him?"

"Who?"

"Kinney... if you were here I'd slap the gay right outta you!"

"I dare you." Brian heard her chuckle on the other end. He liked hearing her laugh. "Look, I promise to call once I can get my head clear and not so jumbled. Is that good enough?"

"That's better then I was hoping. I'll talk to you later."

"Yeah, I promise... okay?"

"Uh-huh."

"Cynthia."

"All right, Brian. I heard you and I believe you. Can I hang up now?"

"Sure." Brian remained listening to her breathing.

Neither of them said one word.

"Brian?"

"What?"

"Shit! Hang up!"

"Okay."

"Do it!"

"All right." Brian loved playing with Cynthia over the phone. Somehow he knew this would tickle her to no end. She already thought he was certifiable.

"Kinney, I'm hanging up."

"Good."

"I will."

"Uh-huh."

"Bye."

"G'bye."

"I'm doin' it."

"I believe you."

"Fuck you!"

"There's my girl!" Right before he pushed the 'end' button he heard her laugh outright.

******************************************

The smell rising up through his nostrils was what made him open his eyes. Brian slid up from the wall, squinting his eyelids as he attempted to adjust to the lights of the hospital corridor. He'd been sleeping in a chair outside the door to Michael's room in Intensive Care. Last night the offer of a cot in the room had been made, but Brian refused. He had trouble enough falling asleep, but having to be in the room with Michael would have kept him awake all night. Truth be told, Brian hadn't put one foot beyond the doorway of Michael's room.

"Mr. Kinney, you know you don't have to stay out here, like a bodyguard. There's chairs inside the room, closer to Michael." A nurse, around forty years old, held out a twenty-ounce Styrofoam cup of coffee. "Careful. It's the hospital's blend. An acquired taste. Drink with caution. I had no idea how you took it, so I snagged these while the Nazi Cronies in the cafeteria weren't looking." A basketful of sorted creams and sugars fell on his thigh.

Brian grabbed for the coffee wondering if the liquid eventually would end up splattered on his pants. "Thanks." He popped open the plastic lip and steam immediately doused his face. "Any change?" He felt like he was trapped in some cocoon. Someone, during the night, had covered him with a hospital bed sheet.

The nurse crossed her arms over her modest chest as she stared him down in a motherly fashion. "None. Maggie told me you haven't gone into the room at all."

He looked around him and over the nurse's shoulder as if searching for a familiar face. "Is she gone?"

"Lucky her. The twelve-hour shift got over at seven this morning. I'm her replacement until seven this evening."

Brian stared intently at the nurse as he wondered why she sounded so pissy to him. "And you are?" He looked for a badge to cover for himself.

"Your worst nightmare. What good are you to him out here?"

"He's better off."

"Oh, really, I wouldn't be so sure. You could find a little bit of peace to be near him, hold his hand and become assured that he's improving instead of relying on staff to update you."

"They pay you extra to be a shrink?"

"This is a freebie. I look like a fruitcake, but I've been right where you are too many times to count."

"How intriguing. I'm touched that you're about to share your life experiences with me, but it's not necessary."

"Good, 'cause I wasn't going to. I vowed to myself to never speak of any of the negatives in my life unless I was with my therapist."

"Great... advice from the mental."

The nurse actually laughed at Brian's sarcasm. "They warned me you'd be a tough pill to swallow."

"Cute. A nurse telling a 'pill' joke."

"I got a ton of them, honey... and ten more lovely hours to spend with you. Now, excuse me, but I need to see to the condition of my patient." She moved past Brian to open the door to Michael's room.

Brian didn't even turn around to look in on his best friend laying in bed. The bleeps and the blips of machines told him the sight wouldn't be pretty. He found he liked this nurse's gruffness. Showed she would do everything, in her expertise, to make sure Michael came through this rough road ahead. He didn't care if she hated or liked him. Brian took a tentative sip of the cooling coffee. Blech! Boy, was she right. He could normally stand black coffee, but this reminded him of the taste of a cigarette butt.

The nurse spent a long time in the room. Brian wondered if things were going all right. When she exited through the doorway, he pretended like he hadn't been aware of the length of time she'd been gone.

"Michael's doing fine. Some of the swelling has gone down already, but he remains unconscious."

Feeling brave, Brian decided he'd test the nurse. "Do you think that it's possible he'd come out of the ordeal completely whole?"

The nurse took a few minutes to think over her answer. "That will all depend on Michael. The brain's a funny organ. No doctor can ever pinpoint common reactions for each patient. No one is the same." She appeared like she wanted to leave, but stood right where she was. "Why don't you take an hour, or so, away from your guard duty. Go eat breakfast. Sleep in your own bed. Take a shower, change clothes and get refreshed."

"Should I take this personally?" Brian made a motion as if to sniff his own body odor.

The nurse giggled lightly which wiped about ten years off her face. "Hardly. I'd give the same suggestions to my other patient's family members."

"Hmm, kind of you, but I'll be fine." The cell phone on his belt loop vibrated annoyingly against his hip. "Excuse me for a minute."

"Not a problem. I've got some charting to do." The nurse was gone before Brian could say one more word.

Brian put the phone to his ear sipping at the coffee. "Hello?"

"Brian, it's Lindsay." She sounded a bit upset.

"Good morning to you, too, sweetie."

"Sorry. So... how is he?"

"The swelling's gone down, but nothing else."

Lindsay took a deep breath and cleared her throat. "Look, I wanted to be sure you knew about something that will be happening this afternoon. Debbie's arranging to have a meeting at the hospital. The doctors, the family lawyer and the rest of us... you know who they are... will be there. They plan to hold it in some private conference room they usually use for family members. I have a feeling the hospital will send a grief counselor, as well."

"So this is it?"

"What?"

"Barely twenty-four hours pass and everyone's already going to write him off."

"That is not what's going on. Brian, isn't it better to know what Michael's wishes are instead of when the time comes? We'd be running around like mad, crazy people."

"When what time comes? Exactly what the hell are you all doing?"

"We are making sure his life doesn't end in shit... you bastard! You think any of us think this is easy?" Lindsay was obviously upset because she knew Brian would fly off in anger toward her, in place of all the other cowards. "Anyway, I don't have any idea if Debbie thinks you'll need to be there and call you later, but I thought it would be decent of me to give you a heads up. Maybe this will at least take part of the brunt off of Debbie when she does contact you. Don't be too hard on her, if she does. She's gone through this with Vic and I believe she's looking out for Michael's best interests."

"Without Michael being in the room, how can it be 'In Michael's Best Interest'." Brian knew he was sounding petty and small, but really this "meeting" didn't sound like it was going to be all peaches and cream. "I know what you're trying to do, Linds, but I can handle this all on my lonesome."

"I know, but I'm afraid that this will be like Ted's ordeal, where everyone thinks you're gonna pull a fast one and bail on Michael. I know you wouldn't and I don't want them to gang up on you without you being aware of the situation. That's all."

Brian was feeling bad about jumping all over Lindsay when all she was doing was looking out for him, like she always did. Like Michael would have done. "I appreciate it, honey. I'll be there even if Debbie doesn't call." He wanted to ask her what Melanie thought about things, but knew it'd only frustrate him more. Brian chose to wait until the meeting to find out everyone's feelings. No matter how difficult and terrible to bear. "Thanks, Linds."

"I know, Brian... I love you, too." She choked out.

"I didn't..." He squeezed the slope of his nose to protect his inner emotions wanting to break free.

"Hey, it's okay... I know you do, too. Bye." Lindsay hung up without another word said between them.

Brian pushed the button to disconnect the line. He placed the bottom edge of the phone over his mouth and shut his eyes to the rush flowing through him. Damn Lindsay and Michael! How they always could find tiny ways to stir him up inside.

The nurse stood over across the room, behind the desk, as she went about her business for the day. What a good time to decide to take her advice. She wouldn't miss him.

******************************************

Brian had gone to the loft to shower and change into more comfortable clothing. Something less constricting then his Armani suits. He wore a pair of well-washed jeans and a thick turtleneck sweater over a long sleeved, grey cotton shirt. He was carrying his warm, leather hip length jacket over his arm as he made his way to Michael's nurse. He thought it best to make a short trip to the floor and inform them where he'd be for the next couple of hours. He didn't know how long the meeting would take. Also, Brian thought he'd cover his ass, so they wouldn't think he'd totally skipped out on Michael.

She stood in front of another patient's doorway writing some information on her clipboard. He did a slight jog to come closer to her.

The nurse heard his boots on the tiled floor as she turned to watch him approach. Her gaze moved down his handsome appearance. "Good. You clean up nicely." She shook her head of whatever thought was creeping in her mind to say next. "Is there something I can help you with?"

Brian handed over the folded piece of paper to place on the surface of her clipboard. "In case you need to reach me, when I'm away from home. My cell phone and beeper numbers. I plan on being in the hospital somewhere this afternoon. In a private family conference room, wherever that is. Debbie, Michael's mother, is arranging a family meeting."

"Hmm... deciding Michael's fate, I'm assuming?"

Brian tucked his hands inside his jeans pockets. "You'd be right. I'm not too thrilled about this, but they don't want to be left with their pants around their ankles when... or if things should get worse." He tried to look away as he wondered why this nurse struck such an inner chord with him.

She shook her head in misery. "The hospital wants to make sure all the rules are followed precisely as well as the family wants. Don't be frightened of what is said in the room. No one can make up your mind, or Michael's, except you or Michael. Remember that. Never think you can be talked into anything." She cautiously took a step forward, nearly toe to toe with him. God, he smelled incredible! How lucky her patient was, indeed! Reaching out a tentative hand, the nurse place a tender hand over the area where Brian's heart would be. It beat so strongly. Somehow this assured her Michael would be in good hands. Brian wouldn't forget Michael. "No matter how things may look for Michael, don't let them forget what he was. He can still be that way... how they remember him, how he'll always be for them."

Brian felt his heart swell with her sweet kind words. "Thank you,..." He recalled she'd hadn't even told him her name, yet.

She smiled up at him, knowing it was safe to reveal herself to him. "Gwen."

"Thank you, Gwen." He squeezed her hand to his chest tightly. "I'll come back and fill you in, when we're done."

Gwen noticed that one of her co-workers was paying particular close attention to how she was relating to Brian. Her past history with this other nurse was shady. Somehow she'd managed to piss the damn woman off no matter how hard she worked. Rest assured she'd hear about this incident later on. She took her hand away feeling the warmth from Brian's soft clasp. "Good luck. I'll be here until seven." She almost whispered closer to Brian's ear, so no one else could hear her.

*******************************************

Everyone, besides Debbie and Lindsay, appeared shocked and a bit perturbed that Brian bothered to show up. Earlier he'd gotten the specifics from Debbie. Lindsay had been correct about Debbie wanting him there. She was the first to walk over, hug him securely and kiss his cheek, as did Lindsay. All the others remained seated. They were strangers or pissed at Brian for some reason or another. There was an empty chair next to Debbie, but Brian opted not to take the offer. She smiled through her sadness.

Brian walked around to the back part of the room where along the wall ran a long couch, a single chair and then a small love seat.

He sat down on the love seat which put him directly behind Vic. He laid a gentle hand on Vic's shoulder as he passed on by. A hand had come up to pat his, in thankfulness, but was released quickly when the emotions began to surface.

Relaxing against the soft cushions, Brian allowed his eyes to wander around the crowded room. To Vic's left, at the head of the lengthy table, sat Lindsay and Melanie, side by side. Debbie began the seating on the other edge of the table. The empty seat chosen for Brian sat beside her. The next two men were unfamiliar to Brian. The first was a uniformed police officer and to his left was, most likely, the lawyer, who was distinguished and polished in his tailored suit. At the opposite end of the table were two medical doctors in their usual white coats. One wore casual clothing while the second had on a particular colored scrub uniform. Brian recognized the first doctor as the attending physician on Michael's floor. Next to the unknown doctor sat a perfectly coiffed, nicely dressed woman who wore a long white lab coat over her skirt and silk blouse. By process of elimination, Brian deduced her as the grief counselor, who would be the ring leader of the meeting. Next to her left was Ted and then came Emmett. Both men had folded their hands in their laps, holding something in and behaving.

"If I could have everyone's attention, we'll get things started." Chairs and bodies shifted nervously as they prepared to listen to the grief counselor as she stood to speak. "My name is Anne Delano. I was a registered nurse for twenty-two years. Six years ago, I became the hospital's grief counselor through our cancer clinic. In the past three, going on four, years, we've branched out into other areas. Occasionally, I am the resident therapist-on-demand for my co-workers and others that I know in the hospital." A few chuckles or two erupted around the table. "I think most of the room knows each other, but for those who don't know some . . . I'll introduce them slowly."

Anne walked around to the other side of the table to stand behind the police officer. "First, we have Officer Daniel J. Hall. He was first to the scene on Michael's accident and he will be here to clear the air about any mixed thoughts of what occurred. Next, we have Mr. Robert C. Todeski, of Williams, Townes, Todeski and Associates. He is the Novotny family lawyer who has been the bearer of Michael's Last Will and Testament." She wandered behind the first of the doctors at the head of the table. "This is Dr. John Warren. General Surgeon, co-chair of the ER/Trauma Unit and head of our Operating Room. He is the attending physician of Michael's case while he's on the ICU. Beside him is Dr. Terry Coster, chief resident and head of our ER/Trauma Unit for five years. He was the doctor who first saw Michael when he arrived." She took a deep breath as she realized she had finished the introductions and people were still in a daze of sorts.

"I can sense that there's slight tension in the room. I want everyone to know that this is just a precautionary overview into Michael's case. Only of the things to come. What's been done, what can be done for him in the meantime and what will be available for all of you. Concrete decisions will not be made today. Nothing is written in stone. Like Michael's prognosis. We cannot stress enough the window of improvement open for Michael. The hospital is only here to make sure all his wishes are carried out, not to make up your minds." She looked about the room and saw that she had peaked a few more people's interests. They were finally seeing that she wasn't the enemy. "We are not here to force your hands, either. Debbie was kind enough to mention how much she wanted all of Michael's friends included as family. Most especially she wanted you here to be informed of his condition and a possible outcome. As of early this morning, Michael has improved in small measures. Some of the swelling in his brain has decreased, but he remains unconscious. I, as a nurse, can tell you this can be a good thing for Michael's health. Healing properly may take some much needed patience, and time, many conscious patients can't ever give. His worry is excluded, but has seeped into all his family and friends." A collective sigh echoed around the room as people settled and relaxed more.

"I foolishly asked Debbie to describe Michael to me..." Everyone who knew him laughed and peeked at one another. Michael was inexplicable. "But I think I get some idea from all the looks you're giving me. I wished all my families had this much care and attention for their loved one. I could tell by each of you entering the room how much none of you wanted to be here. And you all have a right to be frightened and scared. The last time you were with him, Michael was lively and energetic. Laughing and joking with you. Seems like that was a long time ago, but it was only yesterday. Feels like he's been snatched from your life. A life snuffed out for no reason. I need all of you to remember Michael in your mind and hearts."

"Keep his memory alive, in here, or here..." She gestured to her head and heart. "For as long as he is willing to fight. Don't give up on him, because we won't until Michael shows us he can no longer hold on. Michael seems unable to give up so easily, as well." Her speeches tended to move her to tears. She cleared her throat to turn the conversation over to the police officer. "Officer Hall, you mentioned that you'd like to speak first." She motioned for him to take the floor as she retook her chair.

The awkward, portly police officer stood to his tall height as he began to talk. "I will agree with Mrs. Delano. Most of the families I meet with haven't got the time to spare a speck of respect for the victims. In the 15years I've been on the force, I've been witness to some peculiar families. I am happy to say I am honored to be in the presence of Michael's family and friends. I know the days look bleak and difficult, unbearable, but I want everyone here to realize that Michael selflessly saved more then Mr. Taylor's life on that highway." He pushed back his chair to walk to one of the doors. He appeared to be talking to someone in the hall. Intrigued, everyone sat a little straighter when they noticed a little girl creep in every so slowly with her hand in her Dad's clasp.

Debbie put a hand to her throat in shock as Lindsay and Melanie looked down at the injured little girl. The rest of the men stared in blatant shock. Brian sat stiff in his reclining position breathless with wonder.

What had Michael done? The little girl only had a scratch on her upper right cheek and a small square-shaped piece of gauze taped to the left side of her forehead. Officer Hall placed a huge gentle hand over the Dad's shoulder pushing him forward slightly. "Go ahead. Mr. Bristol wanted to come here, in front of all of you and say a few words."

The poor man blushed and scratched at the back of his head. "Sorry for the intrusion. My name is Gerald Bristol. This is my daughter, Molly. We were traveling a few cars behind Michael and his young friend. I noticed the car swerve on the road. I watched Michael take over the driving, as the young man seemed to go into spasms of some sort. They lost control of the car and ended up tail end in the ditch on the side of the road. I pulled over wanting to be sure both men were okay. See if I could help either of them." He grew quiet and introspective as an image of what he'd lost came through his mind. He couldn't bare to go on.

Officer Hall comforted Mr. Bristol and tucked him under his arm. "It's okay, Gerald. I can finish for you." At Gerald's slow nod, Officer Hall proceeded on. "By the time Michael had the car stopped, Justin had already blacked out. He was collapsed on the steering wheel. Michael was unhurt, walking around, but shaken up by the near accident he'd prevented. Michael had managed to get the Miata parked at a slant, off center and tail end in the ditch. Gerald parked on the shoulder, away from oncoming traffic and left his wife and Molly in the car. He stepped out to see if Michael needed any help, but Gerald had forgotten to lock the car doors. Molly nearly wandered out into traffic. Michael was the first to catch her in time. As he went to scoop her up to safety, a local moving van driver missed stepping on his brakes to avoid hitting Michael. He swerved, jack-knifed and ran the front end of his truck into the Bristol's minivan. Cheryl Bristol, Gerald's wife, and Harry Blazon, the truck driver, died instantly. From what we've been able to investigate on scene, and with Gerald's help, is what could have happened to Michael. Gerald only remembers the gravel flying in a whirlwind and throwing him back against the Miata, which remained unharmed. When the dust finally settled, Michael lay on his side cradling Molly to his chest."

There wasn't a dry eye in the room, except for Brian. Debbie had covered her face during Officer Hall's story as the picture of what her son suffered went through her mind. Brian could only think to himself that Michael had become the very super hero he'd always dreamed of being. That would be the only explanation for no outward signs to Michael's critical medical condition. Debbie was out of her seat in a flash. She moved to hold Gerald and placed a kiss to his wet cheek.

"Thank you, Gerald. Michael would have been happy to know you and Molly survived."

"No, thank you, Mrs. Novotny for raising a son like Michael. Losing Cheri was hard, but if I'd have lost Molly, too... well, I wouldn't be standing here. I can't find the words to express what Michael has done for me. You're all lucky to have him."

"Bless you, Gerald." Debbie shook her head at the stranger's kindness.

"I heard about his condition and he will be in our prayers this Sunday at church."

Debbie sank to Molly's level. "You hungry, sweetie?" The dear, innocent face hid behind her Dad's pant leg. "How about I send you off with some sweet lemon bars and homemade chocolate chip cookies?" When she stood up, Debbie made sure to check with Gerald. He nodded through his tears. She paced to the table at the other end of the room to pack away the treats in the Liberty Diner's Styrofoam box. "Here you go. Enough for you both. Enjoy."

"Thank you, again." Gerald nodded his head to everyone and left in silence. Molly gave a bashful wave on her way out.

Debbie nearly fainted into her chair as Officer Hall went on. "Gerald was too ashamed to say more, but his wife died carrying their unborn child. She wasn't far enough along for the baby to be saved, but Gerald is content with Molly being healthy. Both accidents are being wiped clean off the records. No one will be prosecuted for causing any of the accidents. Gerald holds no guilt toward Justin losing control of the car. Since he pulled over on his own time, Gerald puts himself up for blame." Officer Hall took his chair again and pulled up to the table. "That's about all I have to say, for now."

Dr. Terry Coster turned to glance at Anne wondering if it was perfectly fine he speak up next. "Quite frankly when Michael arrived in my Trauma Unit, I had wondered how he could have been involved in the accident they'd been describing to me. What became frightening was that the more we tended to care for him, the more his condition worsened. He'd been with us only twenty minutes when the internal injuries he sustained became visible to our eyes. The same seemed to be with Justin Taylor. For what was described to us over the radio, both men should have been D.O.A.s. Realizing the sudden severity to Michael's medical prognosis, I paged John... Dr. Warren. He is our on-call Trauma surgeon." Dr. Coster made a hand gesture to show he had to turn the case over to his colleague.

Dr. Warren nodded his head and situated himself upright in the chair as he took over the discussion. "Terry had quickly informed me Michael had some suspected tears and massive bleeding in his abdominal wall. X-rays were no help. I was basically walking in blindly. Prepping him for surgery with anesthesia and allowing his vital signs to stabilize held us back from going ahead. The anesthesiologist recommended that I might want to halt everything all together. Undiscovered at the left lower side of Michael's head was a tiny gash. Only seconds into us pausing, Michael's vitals went haywire and out of control. We nearly lost him on the table. From what we could deduce, Michael was bleeding severely from a constricted blood vessel flowing to his brain. He was having a stroke right before our eyes." He took a moment to refresh the air in his lungs as the image returned in his mind. "Once we were able to revive him, we decided that the best thing was to patch up what we could and get him safely up to a monitored floor. Intense one-on-one care with a constant schedule of medicines and actually letting Michael have the chance to heal on his own merit. It might appear that he's being kept alive by every machine in his room, but I think Michael would be strong enough without them."

"What makes you so sure?" Brian sat forward in his cushioned seat.

"Brian... is it? To be honest, I'm not, but experience has taught me that depending on technology to show us that Michael wants to live, would do him a great disservice."

"Yeah, I hear what your really saying." Brian didn't understand how they could allow the doctor's to speak their half-assed opinions so openly, yet say they had no motive to change everyone's minds or make concrete decisions today. One less patient to care for and no more bills to follow through on. "I don't know about all of you, sitting here, but I think before we make a choice on when to 'pull the plug'..."

Lindsay spoke up to show her embarrassment of Brian's attitude. "That's not what we're doing here, Brian!"

"Did you listen to what was just said?!"

"Yes... and you're being an asshole about this, as usual." Melanie thoughtfully chimed in.

"Nice one, Mel." Brian stood up, beginning to pace the floor. "I'm the asshole. Wonderful!" He moved to the back of the room where the table of food sat along the wall. He planted his backside on the table top. "Mr. Todeski? You're awfully quiet. Is there something you'd like to share with the class?"

Robert Todeski shuffled the file folder and papers in front of him as he let his gaze wander down to Debbie. He placed thin spectacles over his nose intending to read the paper that was laying in his view. "I do, actually. A few years ago Michael came into my office. He wanted to discuss his Will with me. Most of his assets have been divided amongst his family and friends, seated here today, but since my client has not been legally declared deceased, as of yet... I won't touch on that aspect. Instead, I am going to speak about what Michael came to me with. A Health Care Advance Directive. I'll try to avoid all legal mumbo-jumbo, since I know my fellow hospital employees are aware of what this document entails." He looked at them respectfully over the top rim of his lenses. "Simply put the Health Care Advance Directive is a two part document consisting of a patient's Living Will and the assignment of a health care agent. The Living Will is a letter created by a person to have all their end of life treatments laid out, step-by-step. They usually consist of 'I do, or do not want life sustaining measures to be performed on... such and such.' Now, the health care agent is the person who has been chosen by 'said' person to have all their Living Will wishes carried out. I think that must be what you're asking for, Mr. Kinney... am I correct?" He sat back with ease as his eyes searched the room for wherever Brian had moved to. He took the slow, quiet nod of Brian's head to mean to proceed. "Good. Maybe you'll be relieved to learn that Michael has chosen... you... to, uh, what was it? Pull the Plug?"

The room began to rumble and make noises.

"Excuse me?" Brian wasn't sure he had heard the lawyer clearly.

Mr. Todeski moved up to read the document under his nose closely. "I, Michael Charles Novotny, hereby designate, Brian Kinney, as my agent to make any and all health or personal care decisions for me as described below in this document." He looked over at a dumbstruck Brian. "Would you like me to read further on?"

"No, I've heard enough." Brian's eyes pierced the back of Melanie's head. "Did you know about this?"

Melanie knew he was staring right at her. "If I had, Brian, I'd be calling you the same shit I did when we went through this with Ted."

Ted finally raised his head from his bowing pose. "Hey, don't go throwing my name into the mix. I made my decision, just like Michael did. That's no fault of Brian's."

"But, why? Look at the choices he's made in his own life. Both of you blindly go allowing him to take these kind of drastic measures in your own?" Melanie shook her head at how unbelievable some level headed people could be.

Lindsay couldn't look at Melanie as she tore down Brian's pride for her own sake. "Mel, let's not go there right now. Brian's got a lot on his shoulders."

"Who did know?" Brian stood up and walked to the table ready to face down everyone seated. "Besides Mr. Todeski."

"Why should that matter, honey?" Debbie spoke up gently as she let what had transpired, so far, sink into her head.

"Because, you all seem to take this small enjoyment out of sending my mind into outer space with this heavy load of responsibility you think I've somehow earned."

Lindsay attempted to laugh lightly. "No, we don't."

"Someone does."

Emmett choose to rearrange his body as he began to grow uncomfortable. "Should I say something... or do you want to?" He placed a tender hand over Vic's which rested on the table.

Vic cleared his throat as he got out of his slouching position. "Might sound easier to take coming from an old geezer like me."

"Take what?"

Vic turned his head to gaze intently up at Brian. "Michael asked Emmett and I to help him write the damn thing. He didn't tell us who he was choosing to be the person, but wanted us to make sure he was doing the legalities of the form right before he took it into Mr. Todeski's office. We helped as best we could, without acting too curious. I know I didn't want the responsibility." Vic glanced across to his sister's face. "I'm sorry, Deb."

"I know, Vic. I feel the same way."

Emmett wondered who else was relieved. "Both Vic and I were quiet shocked that Michael was so excited to write up this thing. We had no idea what he wanted, but soon discovered he was possibly doing the smartest thing in the world. It was right after Teddy's whole fiasco. I think it scared him into action."

That was when it "hit" Brian what had never occurred to him. After Ted's recovery time, as he'd gotten back into the scene of Babylon, Brian and Michael were dancing on the floor. Michael declared he wanted HIM, Brian, to pull his plug. Brian had felt funny. It sounded ridiculous for them to talk about this while dancing, but then it washed over him how meaningful the words were, so he had replied in return. Brian told Michael he wanted HIM, Michael, to pull his plug. Brian thought the conversation had been forgotten in the randomness of the evening. Only Michael held on to the idea and took it as a fact he wrote down on a legal document. One they would be using as the deciding factor to his life.

Brian had to leave the room. He felt like there was something constricting resting on his chest, leaving him unable to breathe easily. He moved back toward the love seat to pick up his jacket and meander in direction of the doors.

Before he could make a safe exit, Debbie came out of her chair and held onto his arm. "Don't leave like this, sweetie. "

"Deb, I know your son." Brian felt like he should keep this discussion between him and Debbie. "He'd think what was going on here was fucked up and shitty. Michael's the other half of me. He doesn't know it, because I never told him. But I can fix that. I hear him loud and clear, now. He feels the same way about me. The unwavering faith and belief that somewhere, probably deep inside of me, lays a soul capable of being strong enough to make a decision of this magnitude." His intense hazel eyes moved to glance at all the curious, accusing gazes looking back. "I let him down."

"What are you talking about, Brian? You already put way too much expectations on yourself. Michael does what he does, because that's Michael. No one ever presumes anything you'll do. I'm certain if Michael were here, standing beside us, he would know that you did the best you could."

"Is that enough for him? Especially now? My Best? Hell, Deb, I don't even know what my 'best' is... we made a verbal promise... he kept his end of the bargain."

Debbie let her hand fall to her side. She looked saddened by Brian's words. "I can't promise anything, but we'll be here until we're sure Michael's wishes are followed. I can't guarantee they'll agree with yours."

"Tell me the outcome, when the party's over. You know where I'll be."

Brian exited the meeting on the hopes that everyone involved would respect Michael and the choices he'd written down in the document.

********************************************

Brian took his time coming back up to Michael's room. He felt a change in himself. Whether it was a sense of Michael, or not, he couldn't tell, but it was giving him a confidence he'd never had before.

The glass partitions surrounding Michael's private room were openly displaying the entire area. They must have pulled the linen curtains back. The door was still closed.

He walked over to stand in front of the chair he'd slept in last night. This was Brian's first moment of seeing Michael in nearly forty-eight hours. God, he looked tiny in the big bed. There weren't actually too many machines hooked up to him. The picture in his head had been worse. Brian wondered if the hair that was covered with a band of white gauze had been shaved off for surgery. Someone had allowed his arms to lay on the outside of the pristine white sheets and blankets. If he watched closely enough Brian could actually see Michael breathe in and out. He thought Justin had been awful to look at and not be able to touch, but this was ten times as bad.

To him, Michael was always "alive". In his manners, in his language, and in the way he treated the people in his life. Constantly inquisitive, outrageously curious and so unbelievably breathtaking, at times. Seeing Michael so still was making Brian literally sick to his stomach. He didn't feel Gwen walk up beside him or the gentle hand she had placed on his back.

"He looks like he's asleep, doesn't he?" Her eyes kept a steady view of her patient. "He deserved some sunlight. The heater's on in his room. It can get fairly cold at night."

"Thank you." Brian didn't turn his head to glance over at Gwen as he crossed his arms intensely watching Michael. He became oddly fascinated.

"So, how did the clan meeting go?"

"I got labeled 'Black Sheep' again."

"Oooo, that's always fun."

"Why didn't you warn me?"

She knew exactly what the question meant. She looked away and down at her shoes. "Not my place. My patient comes first." She shuffled her feet nervously as she crossed her arms, too. "They don't mean to sound shallow, Brian. Anne Delano knows her job and does it well, but she's been out of touch with patient care for too long and has the view from the top, now. They all would like to truly believe that what they do is helpful and prevents any chance of misinformation, but in the end everything usually will fall into your own lap. They can say all the pretty, politically correct words they want. Only the one thing they can't do is replace your loved one."

"You mean no late night, hot coco chat with Anne at three in the morning?"

Gwen had to chuckle as she scratched at her nose. "Anne was an excellent nurse, but even the best of our breed can burn out so easily."

"What's your excuse?"

"Not crazy enough to quit and too crazy to fire." She heard a chuckle brew inside Brian's belly and became shocked when she saw he actually returned a sly grin. "Oh, my stars! Would you look at that?! There is a human being in there after all!"

"Everyone doesn't think so."

"I say... screw them. Who cares about them? Michael sure thinks the world of you."

"Almost two years ago I was in this same boat with a mutual friend of ours. He happily told me, when he woke up, that the reason he'd chosen me was because I was a 'heartless shit' and that I would know when it was time to go. I wasn't as close to him, as I am to Michael, but it was still difficult."

"What about now?"

"I'm surprisingly at ease. I wasn't before, but I don't see anyone rallying around Michael. Like they think they need to put him out of his misery. I guess there's nothing sadder then having to watch a pathetic loser, over thirty, who they think is barely living his life as the rug's pulled out from under him."

"Is that what scares you?"

"What do you mean?"

"When Michael heals properly, and wakes up, do you want him as a part of your life? Would things have been much easier for him to have died in the accident, or on the OR table? Life, after something like this, will be hard for Michael to deal with... can you be there, through it all?"

"Yes... and no, of course not... and yes..."

"Great then we are on the same page."

"Uh, oh... is it lecture time, again?"

Gwen laughed lightly as she noticed her other co-worker getting fidgety. Obviously she was spending too much time with family and not her patient.

"Kind of. Michael, for whatever purpose, is alive. He has enough trust, faith and love for you that he's put his life in your hands. Daunting, yes. Painful, certainly. Michael has held on, for this long, with what he's been put through. Ball is in your court... what do you do?"

"The million dollar question. You'll have to tune in next week."

"Understood. I wouldn't even ask that of you this early in Michael's care."

Both Brian and Gwen stood in complete silence as they watched Michael's appearance through the window as they began to grow comfortable with one another's presence.

"Gwen..." Brian didn't have to say much else.

"I'll check with the supervisor if they've got an available cot you can use."

Gwen patted his arm as she turned to head back to the desk to do as she promised.

Brian found her gone before he could thank her. Taking a deep breath, as he wiped the palms of his hands on his jeans, he tentatively reached out a hand for the doorknob. The mechanism turned with an unexpected ease as he slowly stepped inside the room...  


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**~*~*~*~*~*~*~The End**

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**Story Continues in WEAK AT THE SEAMS**   



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